


The Silver Kiss

by Miss_Vile



Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [26]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Dubious Consent (but not from Ed or Os), Ed is a delightful stoner, Enthusiastic Consent, First Kiss, M/M, Praise Kink, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27853766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: The Mayor had assumed Ed’s dismissive behavior had something to do with how grumpy the two of them had been all week. Their itineraries were packed full and the two of them barely had the opportunity to sit down and relax. It was always one meeting after the next followed by interviews, town halls, and charity galas. With the weekend finally on the horizon, Oswald had hoped he and his friend could turn in early and have dinner. Edward, of course, had other plans.The coffee table in the parlor had been transformed into, for lack of a better word, some sort of lab. It wasn’t until Oswald approached and watched as Edward procured a bud from a glass jar, placed it into the grinder, and looked up at him with that dopey smile of his that he realized what Edward had planned for them that evening.
Relationships: Edward Nygma/ Multiple Partners (mentioned), Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1396144
Comments: 14
Kudos: 66





	The Silver Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Once again writing some oopsie porn inspired by me getting high af. (You can read the other one [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21917002)) I _also_ named this one after another obscure 90’s horror romance because I’m just like that, I guess. Who knows, might make it a trend ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

The Penguin, quite confused, stared down at his Chief of Staff sprawled out on the floor. This wasn’t usually a position the two found themselves in, but the Mayor was certainly not complaining.

"Are you alright down there?" he asked, the edges of his vision blurring like the static on an old television.

"I'm fine. I'm just..." the man stared at his hands held up in the air in front of him, that perfect brow cinched in contemplation. Then his hands fell limply at his sides, a dull thud like they were full of lead, "I'm time traveling."

Edward had returned to the mansion later than normal that evening. When asked what had disrupted his routine, he simply grumbled and made his way into the parlor with a brown paper sack. Oswald, too frustrated from the workweek, rolled his eyes and dismissed his Chief of Staff’s tardiness. If it was important, he would tell him. So, Oswald opted to pluck a few bottles of their favorite hard liquors from the bar caddy and join him.

The Mayor had assumed Ed’s dismissive behavior had something to do with how grumpy the two of them had been all week. Their itineraries were packed full and the two of them barely had the opportunity to sit down and relax. It was always one meeting after the next followed by interviews, town halls, and charity galas. With the weekend finally on the horizon, Oswald had hoped he and his friend could turn in early and have dinner. Edward, of course, had other plans.

The coffee table in the parlor had been transformed into, for lack of a better word, some sort of lab. It wasn’t until Oswald approached and watched as Edward procured a bud from a glass jar, placed it into the grinder, and looked up at him with that dopey smile of his that he realized what Edward had planned for them that evening.

Now, here they were, stoned out of their minds with Edward sprawled out on the floor.

Oswald pulled out his pocket watch and forced his eyes into focus. He sighed, “It’s only nine-thirty.”

“See… time travel,” Edward fanned his fingers out in a lateral display like he was imitating fireworks. Both of them giggled.

“Do you plan to stay down there all night?” Oswald asked.

“With this view?” he craned his neck. Oswald thought he caught him ogling his backside, but assumed the pot was clouding his perception. “I might.”

Oswald toed him in the ribs, eliciting a huff from the man on the ground. Edward swayed and he dragged himself to his feet before flinging himself beside Oswald on the couch. He handed his friend the box of takeout and then busied himself rolling another joint.

“I had no idea you smoked,” Oswald said as he became enraptured with the deft movements of pianist fingers.

“I used to smoke all the time,” Edward confessed, rolling the herb onto the paper, “Used to be the only way I could get to sleep.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Work,” Ed sighed, “I had to cheat one too many times during drug tests so I stopped. Then I went to Arkham.”

With one skilled hand, Edward rolled up the joint and sealed the paper. The Mayor watched as he lit the end, inhaled, and allowed the sickeningly sweet smoke to pour out from the seam of his lips.

Oswald’s feelings were still _quite_ unrequited. He’d never mustered up the courage to express them outright— from fear of rejection and that nagging voice that told him to avoid any sort of romantic entanglement for the sake of their careers, both political and otherwise.

His mother had told him to run towards love when he found it but the timing had not worked in his favor. Edward met a woman the night that he planned to confess and, although the relationship was short-lived, it had left a bad taste in his friend’s mouth. Oswald suspected it was because his friend had allowed himself to fall in love so easily, even after making claims that being unattached was for the better. The quirky little librarian had proven to be too good to be true, of course, and Edward was forced to cut ties.

To say Oswald was relieved would have been an understatement. Mercifully, the ordeal only seemed to bring them closer but it made Oswald’s heart ache even more. Perhaps, when the two of them had less on their plate, he could tell his friend how he felt. Until then, he was left with nothing but idle fantasies.

Edward handed the lit joint over to the Kingpin and Mayor and allowed himself to melt into the couch. He seemed particularly fascinated by how the fabric changed hue when he ran his hand across the fibers and then back again.

“I admit this was a surprise,” Oswald said, inhaling, “But I quite like your plans for relaxation.”

“I thought you needed it,” Edward tossed his tie onto a nearby chair and undid the top buttons on his shirt. The display made Oswald’s mouth water. “I know I did.”

“Is it too late to appoint a new Zoning Commissioner?” Oswald grumbled, attempting to distract himself from admiring the pale expanse of Edward’s neck.

“Did you have someone in mind?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Oswald coughed, expelling smoke too quickly. “Someone who won’t get in the way of us building the Iceberg Lounge.”

The Lounge was a pet project he and Edward had devised after getting the necessary permissions to build the casino in the Diamond District. The Iceberg Lounge was connected to the casino and would provide for them the necessary stronghold they needed once Oswald was out of office. As Mayor and Chief of Staff, they essentially had full reign over the economy of the city. Edward likened them to puppeteers who dangled the citizens of Gotham by tiny strings while they secured their positions in the criminal underground. By the time they would be cleaning out their desks at City Hall, they would be untouchable kings. However, Commissioner Clarke was proving to be a thorn in their sides and mucking up their plans with pointless bureaucracy. 

Edward pulled another drag from the joint shared between them, a hum escaping his lips as he fell into thought. The light from the fire haloed him beautifully. Oswald could stare at him for hours. And, with as stoned as he was, it felt like he had.

“You could appoint someone new if you wanted. Or I could dig through our vault and find some dirt on him. Shouldn’t be too hard. The man has worked in politics most of his life and no politician has clean hands.”

“It’s times like this that make the Underworld seem so… straightforward.”

“Are you regretting being Mayor?” he asked, thoughtful.

“No… but I think I will be happier once my term is over.”

Winning the election by such a landslide and the outpour of love and adoration from Gotham’s citizens had been intoxicating. The allure of power and the satisfaction of gaining it filled him with a confidence he had only experienced once before, specifically when he threw Fish Mooney off of that building.

However, the stress and near-constant stomach aches caused by one too many cups of coffee to get him through the day was a bit of fine print he’d neglected to read. He was grateful for the opportunity to be as greedy as he wanted and act with nigh impunity but he was looking forward to handing over the keys at the end of his four years.

“Perhaps we can make this a weekend routine?” Edward suggested as he waved smoke in the air, “Maybe it’ll help us wind down after a busy week.”

“I’d like that,” he nodded. A thought occurred to him and he chuckled, “When Don Maroni was too tightly wound, he just hired a prostitute for a quick blowjob behind the counter.”

“Well, blowjobs will do that,” Edward chuckled.

“I wouldn’t know,” Oswald scoffed, “Never been my area of expertise.”

“Orgasms are an excellent source of stress relief. They release oxytocin from the nerve cells located in the hypothalamus which is then carried to the bloodstream and aids in relaxation.” Edward, as if suddenly realizing the direction of the conversation, shifted on the couch and stared at his friend. Then he asked, “You’ve never had a blowjob?”

“Are we really having this conversation?” Oswald asked, squinting, “Or am I floating.”

“Both, I think,” Ed chuckled.

“It was so _bizarre…_ Maroni had been angry the moment before and then he came out of that room a different person,” Oswald reminisced, “Is sex really that great?”

“Wait…” Edward sat up at that, “You’ve never had _sex_ before?”

“I already told you that it wasn’t really my area,” he blushed, “What about _you_ and _your_ exploits?”

“I doubt you’d be interested.”

“Indulge me,” he swallowed his drink, “I’m curious.”

“I’ve only had two partners,” Ed explained, “Kristen and… um…”

“Isabelle, or whatever her name was?”

“Isabell _ah._ And, no, actually…” Edward swallowed the lump in his throat, “I lost my virginity to a guy in college.”

“A guy?” Oswald tried to tamp down his excitement at having _that_ little detail about his friend confirmed. Hope bubbled in his chest.

“Yeah… uh…” Ed sat up, cross-legged, “I was awkward and didn’t really know how to make friends. I thought that if I went to a party and tried to mingle that I would somehow figure it out… but…”

“But instead you had sex with some random boy at a college party?” Oswald’s eyebrows were practically in his hairline.

Ed rolled his eyes, “There were a lot of drugs involved. I thought they would loosen me up.”

“Pffft, I should say so!”

“He was nice. Smelled like turpentine though. He was an art major,” Edward shrugged and took a drink of the neglected whiskey in front of him.

“Was the sex good at least?”

“I think so?” Ed scrunched his nose, “He didn’t talk to me afterward. But, from what I gathered, he did that a lot.”

Edward zoned out into the flickering firelight that reflected off of the whiskey glass. After a moment, they both realized that no one had said anything further. When Ed looked up, Oswald was staring and shaking his head.

“What?” Ed asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just trying to imagine little shy, doe-eyed Edward Nygma being all rebellious and doing drugs and having sex with art majors.”

“Oh, and there _was_ also that one time that….” Ed stopped, his face glowing red.

“There’s more?!” Oswald’s eyes widened. His smile split his face in two as he leaned in, suddenly excited for this candid bit of storytime. He shimmied in his seat like a kid awaiting candy.

“I’m not exactly proud of it,” Ed pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Oswald frowned, “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”

“It’s fine… just… embarrassing,” Ed explained.

“Oh?”

“When I first started working at the GCPD as a forensics intern, there was another cop that joined the station right out of the academy.”

“A cop? _Really?”_ he scoffed.

“Oh, like you can judge me after all the times you undressed Detective Gordon with your eyes,” he snapped bitterly.

“Point taken,” Oswald cleared his throat, “Continue?”

“I hadn’t realized he’d been flirting with me until Harvey Bullock made a particularly snide remark about it. Later that day I had gone to the showers to wash my face and he was there. In nothing but a towel.”

“You sly dog!” he slapped his shoulder, “On GCPD property?”

“It was actually really uncomfortable… I kept telling him I wanted to leave, but he was just… really convincing.”

“He didn’t force you, did he?” Oswald seethed at the idea.

“No. No, not really. I was willing, but I was nervous and worried about someone walking in and he didn’t exactly have nice things to say about me,” Ed sighed, “It was just a blowjob. But it kept happening.”

“How often?” Oswald asked.

“Twice a week. For a month.”

“And I take it he never gave you anything in return?”

“He didn’t really have to,” Ed chuckled, face flushing at the admission, “It didn’t turn out well in the end though.”

“How so?”

“He worked with Arnold Flass and I helped crack a case that ended up busting up a drug ring that they were involved with. He got suspended and blamed me,” Ed sighed, “So he told everyone in the bullpen.”

“Oh, Eddie.”

“Of course, he told a version of the story that made me out to be a creep. Captain Essen threatened to suspend me, but she figured out what had happened and let me off easy. I basically never left the lab after that.”

“And is that man still breathing?” Oswald asked, violence in his veins.

“Nope! You can thank Jerome Valeska and his Maniax for that one.”

“Shame,” Oswald frowned, “I would have enjoyed killing him myself.”

“It is a shame. I would’ve liked to have watched you kill him.”

They sat there staring at each other. Oswald dared to think that they had actually shifted closer over the course of their conversation.

Suddenly, Ed broke their shared silence, “You know, I could always give you one”

“Give me what?”

“A blowjob.”

“I…. what? I must have heard you wrong,” he choked, the smoke in his lungs scalding his insides.

“You didn’t.”

Oswald stared at him completely flabbergasted and certain that his head was about to spin off of his shoulders like a top. He glanced down at the burning cone of paper between his fingers and frowned.

“Did you put something in this?”

“No,” Ed chuckled, taking the joint from his friend and setting it in the ashtray. He shifted on the couch so that he faced his friend, his expression more serious than it was before, “I really am offering.”

Oswald burst out into nervous laughter. When Ed frowned and turned away, the Mayor clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“My friend, I appreciate the offer but surely you don’t mean it?”

“I do,” Edward turned toward him, less confident this time. Oswald watched his Adam’s apple bob with each anxious swallow.

"You're serious?" Oswald's mouth hung open.

"Very."

He gawked at him in a mixture of confusion and arousal. The image of Edward on his knees swallowing him down and moaning around him was certainly one he'd dreamed about but it wasn't the sort of thing he believed would happen, at least not with their current relationship dynamic. Oswald searched his friend’s face for any hints that could reveal some sort of ulterior motive. When he failed to find one, he turned his gaze away and fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve.

“Can we start slower?” he asked.

“What did you have in mind?” Ed tilted his head. The man looked a bit like a curious puppy, more like the man Oswald knew before Arkham.

“A kiss?” he blurted, completely unsure of himself. “That seems like a good place to start.”

“Have you ever been kissed before?” Edward asked with a slight, anxious tightness evident in his tone of voice.

“No,” Oswald grumbled, “Are you making fun of me?”

“Not at all,” he said, “Just curious.”

“So… who starts?”

“I can, if you’d like,” he placed his hand on Oswald’s knee in reassurance.

“Okaaaay…” 

Oswald looked everywhere except directly at his friend. However, he was still _very_ aware of Edward’s face inching closer from his peripheral. Heat crawled up his neck and he was fairly certain he could feel steam coming out of his ears. Unsure of what was taking so long, he turned his head to crack another witticism. The moment he opened his mouth, it was enveloped in a soft and pillowy warmth.

Oswald’s eyes darted open and, for the briefest of moments, he was certain he had died. He sat there, stiff as a board with his arms flailing at his sides like he was trying to fly away, as Edward’s lips pressed more firmly.

“Relax,” Ed said against his mouth.

“I’m _trying,”_ he growled back.

Ed sighed but remained joined at the mouth with his friend. Oswald was just about to call the whole thing off and retreat upstairs to sulk about how awkward his first kiss was. However, Edward’s hand caressed him just under the jaw. The tips of those pianist fingers massaged that velvety spot behind his ear. He gasped and Edward took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

Oswald clutched him by the shoulders, desperately clinging to him in his attempt to not fall off the ride. Before their kiss, he’d been hyper-aware of how _dry_ his mouth was. The drugs made it easier to isolate the sensations of the gummy saliva coating his teeth, the sandpaper texture of his tongue, and the tang of soy sauce from their recently devoured takeout. Embarrassed, he pulled away and ducked his head in shame.

“Did you change your mind?” Ed asked.

“No, I’m just… processing,” he swallowed, looking back up at Ed. His hand hadn’t moved from its spot and he was now rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbone. “You really sure want to do this?”

“Yeah,” he said instantly, “Pretty sure.”

“Even if I’m no good at kissing?” Oswald blushed.

“You’re not a bad kisser,” Ed told him, moving aside a stray hair.

“Does that mean you want to continue?”

“I do,” he met Oswald’s gaze, “But only if you want to—”

“—Yes!”

Oswald threw his arms around Edward then, slamming their mouths together. The initial press of his tongue against Ed’s sent a shiver down his spine and made his toes curl. He closed his eyes this time and allowed the taste and scent to wash over him. He smelled of lime and bergamot. A hint of amber and orpiment. Edward had also apparently tried Oswald’s sandalwood scented lotion because he could smell it on his hands. The skin under his cuff smelled of gunpowder and copper. He peeked for just a moment, turning his attention to Edward’s palm and wrist. Edward, in turn, trailed his tongue up Oswald’s throat.

There was a single speck of blood on the cuff of his sleeve. The fabric was dark so the blood wasn’t easily noticed, even to a keenly trained eye. He would have to replace the shirt. Perhaps in a shade of emerald green? He seemed to favor brighter colors recently.

As Ed thoroughly wrecked his neck, sucking bruises and marking his skin, his mind trailed once again to the blood. It must have come from their most recent “meeting” with one of the gangs near Park Row. They respected a more direct approach to their dealings so Oswald made sure to greet them personally. Unfortunately, the deal turned sour and one of the more perceptive gangsters who saw how the Kingpin looked at his Right Hand Man took the brunette hostage. The Penguin had been just about to offer up his own insides in exchange when Edward pulled the pistol tucked in the sleeve of his suit jacket, rammed it under the gangster’s chin, and splattered his brains all over the wall of the dirty warehouse.

Edward shifted. Oswald’s eyes darted open as he watched Edward straddle him and deepened their kiss. All at once, he was hit with that memory of sickly sweet copper, viscera, and gunpowder. He imagined Edward was still covered in it. A beautifully grotesque spattering of red and Ed’s signature green. The image only served to turn him on more.

Slowly losing control, the two of them rolled their hips. Edward moaned and then immediately chuckled at the unbidden noise. His normally stoic demeanor was more rumpled around the edges now that he had drugs and lust fueling his actions.

“Is that enough preamble?” Edward asked. His voice was low and smokey and it made Oswald’s chest vibrate from the excitement.

“You're _sure_ you want to do this?” Oswald asked again, sounding a bit like a broken record.

“Yes!” He ground his hips as he glared down at the man beneath him.

“What do you need me to do?” Oswald’s hands wandered down to Edward’s hips. He reveled in how well the two of them slotted together like two long lost jigsaw pieces and, although he did ask for a slower start, he was about ready to throw caution to the wind and bury his teeth into every bit of flesh he could find.

“Just enjoy yourself.”

Edward lowered himself to his knees. Teasing, Edward clicked his tongue and shifted his attention to the ashtray. Oswald rolled his eyes as Edward lit the joint and inhaled, smoke still in his lungs as he trailed his hands up Oswald’s thighs. He groped at his knees and reverently pushed his legs apart on the exhale, enveloping Oswald in a thick plume of smoke.

He palmed him through his trousers and Oswald couldn’t help the little “huff” of embarrassment as he turned his face away. Oswald was already achingly hard from their makeout session… which he supposed was the point. Or at least he assumed so? He was no stranger to giving in to his own carnal pleasures when he was alone, but having another person there eager and confident and willing sent a whole different sort of jolt through his groin.

Where was he again?

Oh, right. Edward was giving him a blowjob.

Unsure as to whether or not it would be polite or even acceptable to tug at Ed’s hair, Oswald instead fisted the plush fabric of the couch. The velvet texture tickled his palms. He felt his knees quake as Edward unbuttoned his trousers and shifted the fabric in order to free him from his confines. His cock sprung out from his underwear and he hissed at the sudden cold from the air.

“Oh,” Ed said, giving another tilt of his head.

“Well, don’t just make fun of me,” Oswald squirmed.

“I’m not making fun of you… It’s just…”

“Just what?” he snapped, his gaze finally landing on Ed who looked flustered and wide-eyed.

“You’re… uh… bigger than a mouthful,” he admitted.

“You’re serious?” he scoffed. He shifted like he wanted to escape, but Edward had a firm grasp on his thighs.

“Your cock is huge, Oswald!”

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before!” he bellowed. Surely Ed remembered cutting his suit off of him, bathing him, and redressing him all those months ago when he first arrived at his apartment?

“That was different,” Ed licked his lips, “You were injured. I was taking care of you not about to perform fellatio on you.”

“Don’t say that,” Oswald shook his head in embarrassment, “It sounds ridiculous.”

“Is it?” he gave him an inquisitive look.

“I… suppose not. Just get on with it already,” he bit down on his lip.

Edward wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock and gave it a few languid pumps. He hummed in amusement at Oswald’s audible squeak. Edward leaned in and teased his tongue out near the tip. He shifted to find a better angle before being overcome with giggles yet again, “How am I even supposed to come at this? It’s so big.”

“Well, it’s not a _cheeseburger,_ Ed!”

Edward laughed at that and Oswald tried to not be annoyed. When he saw the flush across Ed’s face and the red tinge to his ears, he couldn’t help but find the man hopelessly endearing. He was clearly just as nervous as Oswald which made him relax a bit more. If they could both find a reciprocal amusement with their situation, it at least meant they weren’t alone.

“Really, it shouldn’t be _too_ much of a challenge for _your_ big mouth,” Oswald smirked.

“Ah!” Edward huffed like he was offended, a wide toothy grin across his face.

Once they got all of their giggles out of the way, Edward gave a few more reassuring strokes. He finally leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head of his friend’s cock. Oswald wanted to watch but, in that moment, he was too overwhelmed by the heat and building pressure. His eyes rolled back along with his head, his throat exposed to the ceiling. Unthinking, he bucked his hips.

Edward pulled back suddenly and coughed.

“S-Sorry!” Oswald stammered through the haze of his drug-addled mind.

“No worries,” Ed’s other hand that was not currently occupied held Oswald’s hips in place, “Just don’t move.”

“That’s going to be difficult to do,” he chuckled.

“Hmmm… Yes. But you can be good for me,” he kissed the tip, “Right, Oswald?”

Oswald blushed at Ed’s words and swallowed, “Yes… Yes, I can be good.”

“Mmmm… so good for me,” he rubbed his finger across the slit then pulled it away, marveling and the wet pearl leaking from the tip— A silvery trail connecting the pad of his finger to Oswald’s rosy cock.

Once again, he wrapped his mouth around the head. Oswald could feel the flat of Ed’s tongue pressing up against the underside of his shaft before swirling over the head and back again. The Mayor attempted to buck his hips again, but the firm pressure from Ed’s hand prevented him. Relinquishing control was a difficult task, but one he was ready and willing to perform in this instance.

“Ed?” Oswald heard himself call out.

“Yes?” Ed pulled away long enough to answer, the tip of Oswald’s cock resting on his bottom lip.

“Look at me while you do it…”

With a wink, Edward complied. The slow bob of his head and the ministrations of his tongue sent a jolt right through Oswald’s core. Between the overwhelming sensation of it all and the drugs, he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of his mouth.

“God, Ed… you’re beautiful.”

Ed stopped at that, cock still in his mouth. His brow furrowed as he blinked silently in confusion.

“Has no one ever told you that?”

Edward mouthed something that sounded an awful lot like a “No” around his cock. Oswald recalled what his Chief of Staff had told him earlier about how his male partners hadn’t exactly been kind to him. He knew very little about Ms. Kringle but, just based on previous conversations, Edward had felt like all she did was compare his performance to that of Arnold Flass and Tom Dougherty. However, while Oswald may have no experience with this sort of thing, Edward was a marvel and every bit as skilled at sucking his dick as he was with anything else.

Ed’s confusion gave him pause. He reached out and held his face, staring into the depths of his dark brown eyes and diving into the inky pool of his blown-out pupils.

“You’re gorgeous…. Like you were sculpted from marble just for me.”

Edward’s eyes fluttered as he continued to bob his head. With each heartfelt compliment, Edward added more suction and, on more than one occasion, had to come up for air with a gasping breath. His smile would widen each time as he dove back in for more.

He pulled away to catch his breath, stroking the Penguin firmly and with dedicated purpose. His eyes never parted from Oswald’s for even a moment. As Oswald looked down and watched Ed trail his tongue down the shaft, he found himself feeling guilty. Not because he was allowing their situation or even the fact that Edward may very well not realize the effect his mouth was having on Oswald’s heart, but because this was the first time Oswald had considered Edward Nygma in a position of _power._

In all of his visions of their future, Edward was always in a position subservient to himself— his Chief of Staff or Right Hand Man. Yet, here Oswald was completely and utterly at his mercy. Oswald, _The Penguin,_ writhing and mewling and verbally assuring the man that be would “be good” for him and not mindlessly fuck his mouth. Edward certainly had the potential to rule Gotham just as he had, though he never showed any interest. 

However, with this new perspective, Oswald desired to see it. He wanted to revel in the carnage that would be Edward Nygma seated at the head of the table. The thought of granting him that position in the bedroom made something flutter in his chest. His cock twitched and Edward chuckled as it bobbed freely and bopped him on the end of his nose.

Edward shifted his position, more on his knees than his haunches. With his height, he was practically eye level with the Kingpin— his equal, figuratively and literally.

Oswald watched as Ed’s hip undulated— rocking in rhythm with his sucks. His hand traveled down to his own thigh and Oswald watched as he tugged and twisted at the fabric of his own pant leg like he was desperate and holding back.

The man looked positively blissful. Oswald thought back to all of those times he fixated on his friend’s mouth, specifically the times Edward had been compelled to put something _in_ his mouth— the rubber erasers on his pencil, the hard plastic around his pens, his own fingers and knuckles, his bottom lip. He’d noticed his oral fixation and had even been irritated by it on more than one occasion, but it never occurred to him that it extended _this_ far.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, rolling his hips in tiny circles.

Ed whimpered around his cock, drool pouring down his chin and his lips pink from where they were stretched over his girth. He ground his hips and groaned at the lack of friction. He swallowed Oswald deeper, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and hummed.

“Touch yourself,” Oswald demanded in a low, husky tone. Lower than his usual speaking voice. It was more akin to the voice he used when he was giving a death sentence.

With little hesitation, Edward thrusted his hand down the front of his trousers and moaned, taking more of Oswald into his mouth. He felt himself hit the back of Ed’s throat and, for a minute, he saw stars.

Edward’s moans became higher pitched and Oswald could see his shoulders shaking. All of those vibrations went straight to his groin and he feared he was getting close to the end of his rope.

“You are wearing far too many clothes,” Oswald said as he tugged at the man’s wrinkled collar. His lust and growing confidence made him bolder.

Ed let go with an obscene pop, “Should I take them off then?”

“Please?”

“Well,” he swallowed him down once more before carefully dragging his teeth along the underside of his shaft. Oswald moaned loudly and trembled in his seat. “Since you asked nicely.”

Edward unbuttoned his shirt while his head continued to bob up and down. He never broke stride as he pulled the garment away and revealed the flushed skin underneath. Oswald desperately wanted to reach out and feel him. To glide his fingers down his chest and make Edward quake. He wanted more and more and more and wasn’t sure he could ever _truly_ be sated when his wine of choice was a tall brunette with glasses and a penchant for riddles. He would always come back, _begging_ if he had to, to whet his appetite. 

Ed moaned louder and the vibration shook Oswald from the inside out, causing him to spill over. He didn’t even have time to warn Edward as he tipped over the edge and his vision turned white. Though, that didn’t seem to matter as Edward expertly swallowed him down and drank every last drop.

When Oswald finally came to his senses, he looked down at the disheveled mess of a man on his knees in front of him. His hair had frayed and curled from sweat. He clawed at Oswald’s thighs and groaned, throwing his head back. The expression he wore was of satisfaction and Oswald could see the evidence of where he had come in his own pants from the sheer pleasure of having his friend in his mouth.

As the adrenaline wore off and Edward carefully tucked his softening cock back into his trousers, he felt the edges of his smile droop. His limbs suddenly felt heavy and his chest hurt. That pain only worsened when Edward looked down at his soiled clothes and then stumbled out of the room.

Time was still irrelevant to him. He thought for certain that the blowjob had lasted ages, but the clock mocked him and showed that it was only just now nearing ten o’clock. Even now time seemed to pass by him like molasses and it felt like an eternity before Edward finally returned with two cups of gingered tea and a pair of clean, comfier pants.

“Sore throat?” Oswald chuckled.

“A little,” he cleared his throat, “I assumed you had a sore throat as well given how loud you were screaming, so I also brought you one.”

He sipped his tea and sighed in contentment. He turned to his friend and frowned. Oswald, knowing that he was likely wearing his heart on his sleeve at that moment, shifted and tried to busy himself with his tea. Edward allowed him to take a drink before reaching out his hand in a silent request to take it from him. Rolling his eyes, Oswald handed him the cup and saucer and let Ed set it on the table beside the evidence of their rambunctious evening.

“I have a confession to make,” Ed said.

“Oh?” Oswald felt his heart thump, “Is something the matter?”

“No,” he smiled, “Don’t worry. I just… haven’t been honest with you.”

“I see…” Oswald chewed on his lip, uncertain of the direction of the conversation. The uncertainty gnawed at him.

“I didn’t give you all of the details about why I finally ended my relationship with Isabella,” he adjusted his glasses, “We had a fight… about you.”

“About me?”

“She wanted me to have nothing to do with you,” Edward frowned. Oswald could see his nostrils flare and could tell that the memory of it made him angry to even have to think about. That fact delighted Oswald to no end, even if it had been a point of frustration for his friend. “Isabella kept insisting that I was better off without you. When I confronted her about it and asked her why she hated you so much, she wouldn’t tell me.”

Oswald swallowed. He could already guess _why_ the librarian had despised him.

“Does this mean you know?”

The last interaction Oswald had with Isabella had been that time at her apartment when he called her an idiot for daring to fight over Edward. The little homewrecker saw right through him, knew how he felt, and proceeded to challenge him. Oswald had every intention of murdering her then and there or perhaps even stage something far worse, but he waited with bated breath for what Edward would decide.

Edward shifted on the couch and held his hands. He pulled his knuckles towards his swollen lips and kissed them, “I did eventually figure it out, yes. And when she asked me who I chose, I left her apartment and never went back.”

“What does that mean for us then?” Oswald gasped.

“It means I want to try this,” he tentatively reached out, his hand hesitating as he searched Oswald's face for confirmation. Oswald, in response, clasped his hand tightly and kissed his palm.

“I’d like that,” Oswald leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. They pressed their foreheads together and relished the closeness.

“Oswald?” Ed whispered, his lips brushing against his lover’s.

“Yes, Ed?” his lashes fluttered.

“I’m _starving.”_

“Oh my goodness, _me too!”_

The two of them dissolved into uncontrollable, pot induced laughter as they reached out for their neglected boxes of Chinese takeout. They leaned back against their respective sides of the couch with their legs tangled together. The entire scene was sickeningly domestic, but Oswald found himself altogether too happy and too in love to care.


End file.
